Assassin's Creed: Triune
by neatGuardian
Summary: A trio of young and inexperienced Assassins stumble upon another Templar plot to control the world's population, this time exploiting the power of a Precursor Artifact that they cannot possibly control. The boys must fight to end the chaos wreaked by the Artifact and save the lives of the innocents and the Brotherhood, while trying to keep each other alive through the process.


Darkness had fallen over the sprawling mansion estate, concealing a hooded figure as he silently slipped over the perimeter wall. The patrolling guard had just moved out of earshot of the soft thud of his landing, and the rustle of the subsequent roll. He emitted a strained grunt of surprise and hastily shuffled behind a bush as another guard, a man in a suit like the first guard, passed by and narrowly avoided detection. The figure peeked out from behind his cover to take in more of his soundings. He squinted, focusing to see more than sight allowed. A hue of whitish-blue flooded over his vision, painting the estate in a serene atmosphere that belied the true nature of the place, as well as his presence in it. Forms of red dotted the property as far as he could extend his Sight, in all directions but behind him.

"Guard's doubled guys, he's been tipped." He mumbled, looking for the two splashes of bright blue he knew should be on the grounds. He spotted one, moving quickly toward the mansion, stopping sporadically. A voice broke through his earpiece, one he knew belonged to the blue form he had yet to find.

"Yeah. I wonder who's fault that is, _Isaac_." The voice said, still managing to sound charismatic through heavy sarcasm. Isaac rolled his eyes. The blue figure he had previously seen had moved out of range of his Sight and was now lost to him.

"Well I guess the plan still stands since Simon is like, already at the house." Isaac's eyes started to sting and he blinked rapidly, his vision returning to normal. "Where are you? I can't see you."

"Around back, Daughtry's got some big as fuck dogs."

"Nice. Matches his big ass house." Isaac stated. He heard a 'Hey!' A few yards from him and he quickly ducked back behind his bush when a guard started towards it, an SMG at the ready. "Shit." He muttered. "Simon you got eyes me?"

His ally was silent, but a subtle hiss followed by two thuds and the soft clatter of the guard's smg hitting the grass indicated that Simon did indeed have eyes on him. Isaac looked out to see the same guard on the ground with an arrow protruding from his back. A bout of barely hushed, almost manic laughter burst through Isaac's earpiece.

"How cool did that look from there?" Simon asked, his somewhat nasal voice fighting to suppress his excitement.

Isaac rolled his eyes once more. "Don't know, I was hiding." He replied.

Simon huffed, creating a small burst of static in Isaac's ear. "You suck." He joked, "I'll stay up here and keep an eye on you two."

Isaac smirked under his peaked hood. "Roof?" He asked as he ran out to the dead guard, keeping low, and hooked his hands under the body's armpits.

"Where else would I ever be?"

Isaac heard a grunt that he knew belonged to the first, charismatic voice."Bright colors get more attention, I told you." The voice reprimanded through Isaac's radio.

He grunted in return and hoisted the guard up, dragging him back to the bush. "White is tradi- can we not right now?" He dropped the body, dusting off the white hooded jacket adorned with red accents that his teammate was referring to. Isaac thought it was cool, but the guard had most likely only spotted him from the contrast of white against concrete. He took the arrow by the shaft near the man's flesh and wrenched it out, the graphite squeaking against the leather of his brown finger-less gloves, and stored it in the brown sling backpack that clung to his back. He tugged at the large tactical axe that was strapped to the built in sheath to make sure it was secure. Isaac took a deep breath and pushed up the sleeves of his jacket, exposing the grey armored bracers he and his companions sported. The bracers were designed for defense mostly against blades, but they did provide a small amount of protection against firearms. The trio also hid lightweight bulletproof vests under their clothes, sacrificing protection for mobility, which in their case was a fair trade. Peeking out again, he darted across the lawn when it looked clear, climbing into a tree adjacent the raised rectangular garden near the mansion's courtyard.

Isaac leaned against the trunk, thinking about his next move. He wouldn't be able to sustain his Sight for long enough to see anything useful this soon after using it previously, maybe a second or two before his eyes started to hurt again. He took note of the layout of the area. Two raised gardens along a footpath path to the wall of the courtyard, which itself was rectangular with three archways. One arch was directly in the middle, opening up for the path. The other two lay opposite each other, allowing the driveway to run under them and through the courtyard in a slight curve past the front door. Isaac's tree was at the lower left corner of the left garden. Side window? No, the walls were lit so the men patrolling the yard would probably see him before he got to the second floor. He definitely should have planned this better before he hid in the middle of everything. The front door, that was it. They'd never expect it. The courtyard was enclosed enough that the guards outside wouldn't see him, he would just have to make sure the foyer was clear before he went in, assuming there was one. But really, what mansion didn't have a foyer?

"Check your corners Caesar." Simon said over the radio. Isaac heard the faint sound of metal entering flesh in his ear.

"Thanks." Came the charismatic voice, Caesar's, reply. Isaac was admittedly a little jealous of Simon's more advanced level of Eagle Vision, the ability he had so recently used. Simon could use his gift for minutes at a time and could see much farther than Isaac with it. In fact he could most likely see the entire property comprehensively from the roof, which is probably how Simon made the shot that saved him, and he was obviously using it to keep track of him and Caesar, Isaac noted. Simon's gift made him indispensable as the team's "eyes" so to speak. This counted even more for Caesar, who on the other hand, did not possess Eagle Vision as of yet, and had to rely on his natural senses and the sometimes the Sight of his allies to operate, and did so expertly.

Isaac noticed another guard about to pass under the tree heading in the direction of the courtyard. He flicked his left hand, a long thin blade springing up from the sheath that lay in the gap his bracer left under his forearm, and readied himself to fall. He waited until the guard was directly under him and dropped onto the man's back, driving his blade into his victim's neck and planting his face into the ground, silencing him before he made a sound. Isaac kept himself down and pulled his blade from the guard's neck. He flicked his hand again, retracting the blade while he pressed up against the wall of the garden and moved toward the courtyard, stopping before he stepped into the archway.

Isaac peeked around the corner. Nice, the courtyard was clear. A faint blink of red in the upper corner of the inset area that housed the front doors caught his attention. Camera. Dammit. He unclipped the strap on his leg holster and drew his sidearm, a Beretta M9 equipped with a suppressor, unhappy that he had to waste time and a round on this stupid security feature. He wasn't an especially great shot either, which was part of why he personally preferred to use blades. More specifically axes. The other reason was that most of the resistance Isaac and his team ever encountered wore bulletproof vests and carried firearms. That made the enemy Ill prepared for defense against blades and arrows. Still, each member of the team carried a sidearm of some kind, normally only used as backup or when necessary.

Isaac leaned out into the archway slightly with his back still to the wall, took aim, and fired. He slid back into his cover, wincing as the round casing hit the stone tile, a sound he hadn't accounted for. He whipped his head around, making sure no one noticed him or the comparatively loud ring of brass smacking stone. Once he was sure that he remained undetected Isaac glanced back at the camera. Luckily enough he had hit his mark and the camera sat sparking quietly, the red light on its casing replaced by the entry hole from the round. Isaac left his cover and crept across the courtyard. Avoiding the slits of light that spread across the cobblestones, he shot a glance at the curtains in the windows that were perched aside the double doors he so cautiously approached. They were closed, just barely letting out the warm glow from inside.

Isaac opened one of the front doors. The foyer was adorned with a large crystal chandelier hanging over an ornate grand staircase, the kind that started in the middle of the bottom floor and then split off to both sides once you reached the landing. At the base of the grand staircase sat small table and a chair, complete with a guard sipping whiskey and a mounted Gatling gun, pointed directly at the doors.

" _JEE_ sus!-" he took the opportunity to dive back out of the doorway into the courtyard and roll off to the side while the guard fumbled to set his glass on the table. Isaac heard the whirring of the barrels starting to spin. He cursed under his breath as he braced for the noise. Now the entire estate would know they were here, wonderful. Chalk another failed stealth attempt up, point Isaac. He looked back up at the doors. Bullets should have been ripping through by now. He leaned back toward the doorway just enough to see inside.

A man in a dark blue hooded jacket was hastily laying the gunman down, retracting a wrist blade from his neck. Isaac jogged through the open door and shut it quickly behind him. The hooded man looked up at him, the expression on his face: annoyed.

" _Damn it_ Isaac." Caesar said, standing over the guard he has just taken out for his friend. Caesar was an inch or so shorter than Isaac, who himself was about five foot five, with a slightly thicker build than Isaac. He had classically strong features, a square jaw and a somewhat wide nose sat below a brow that looked to constantly be in deep thought. His skin was lightly tanned with a tinge of gold, and Isaac could just barely see a bit of the brown hair that was just a shade or two lighter than Caesar's eyes. Like Isaac, Caesar wore armored bracers, but unlike Isaac Caesar chose to keep his hidden under his sleeves, and both of his bracers were equipped with wrist blades. Caesar's jacket was lapelled, made of a slightly rough, canvas-like material, and worn under a black dress vest with a light grey backing. Two long black batons were nestled in his back harness, and he wore a black military style web utility belt adorned with a surplus of pouches over grey work pants. His hood was both peaked at the brim like Isaac's, resembling the beak of a bird, and slightly pointed at the back of his head, with the seam running down the middle. Caesar wore dark blue converse, which Isaac questioned, but he seemed to be able to climb and sneak in them just as well as anyone else in boots.

Isaac smiled sheepishly. "Uh, thanks." He muttered, adjusting his own wrist blade's straps to avoid making eye contact with Caesar. "Simon, where we going?"

Simon's voice crackled over their earpieces. "Looks like... Top floor, west side. I think it's a study, but I'm not really sure. Lemme know when you guys are at the door, I'll pop a smoke in, there's a few guys with him." Isaac and Caesar acknowledged his Intel, not bothering to question how he was going to smoke bomb the room from the roof of the building.

Caesar took the lead up the stairs, his batons jostling lightly as he went. He looked carefully up both flights of upper stairs before setting foot on the landing. Isaac cast a disappointed look at the massive painting of a beautiful brunette that hung above the landing.

"I still can't believe she was Daughtry's daughter." Isaac said, a hint of depression in his voice. Simon chimed in.

"And _that's_ why we don't tell girls we're Assassins to impress them." He chastised.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I got it now." Isaac said quickly, not wanting to have this discussion more than they already had. He started up the right staircase, only to be jerked back a bit by an unexpected pull on his backpack. Caesar thumbed up the left staircase.

"This side is west." He whispered. Isaac mouthed 'oh' and nodded. He followed Caesar up the stairs on the left, stopping when he held up an open palm near the top. Caesar dropped to his stomach and crawled up to peer over the top step. He held up two fingers and pointed down the hall. Two guards. He pressed his two fingers together and waved toward the door that sat ajar opposite the staircase. Isaac quietly moved past Caesar and through the door.

A fist came from Isaac's right, slamming into the back of his head and knocking him off balance as the man on the other end of it yelled for help. Isaac heard running from down the hall, those two guards Caesar had signalled about he figured. Isaac shook of the daze and faced his aggressor, dropping into a combat stance. The man stepped forward and swung. Isaac ducked the right hook and rammed his wrist blade into the man's gut, then side-stepped to the right and kicked him over a couch as the other two guards entered the room. Isaac backed up, drawing his axe. The pair had begun readying their guns when a piercing whistle broke the air behind them. They spun around to Caesar brandishing a black spear. Caesar fiercely thrust the spear up into the chin of one of the guards, running it through his head almost completely. The second guard had barely raised his weapon before Isaac's axe found the back of his skull with a sickening _thunk._

Isaac and Caesar withdrew their weapons from their respective enemies, and Isaac sheathed his axe, making his way around the couch to finish off the guard he had kicked over. Caesar flicked his spear lightly. The head of the weapon retreated into its shaft, which he then twisted and pulled apart into the same two batons that had adorned his back earlier. He slid them back in their home in the harness on his back. He didn't flinch as Isaac sunk a wrist blade into the head of the man behind the couch to cease his movement. Isaac straightened back up, and noticed a large mirror on the wall above a small table. Never one to pass up a chance to look at himself, he checked his reflection.

Isaac's jacket was a hoodie, white of course, with a peaked hood and triangular slivers of red that branched out from near the top of his zipper, widened out a little, and wrapped under his arms, curving up into what resembled a stylized "A" on his back. The symbol was, however, mostly hidden by his sling backpack. Similar "A" designs decorated the forearms of his now pushed up sleeves. Two more slivers of red sat on his hood, along the two seams, that pointed at the back of his hood. Isaac also wore brown cargo pants, and tall brown leather boots with a single cream colored stripe down the outside of each boot, that fastened with at least sixteen straps between the both of them. His complexion was fairer than Caesar's, with a slight olive tinge, accompanied by high cheekbones and full, slightly feminine lips. A thick brown chinstrap beard clung to his jawline, not quite matching dark blonde hair that hung from his hood just above his left eye. Isaac's eyes were blue/green with a ring of brown in the center, and a straight, upturned nose. Satisfied he still looked like himself, he wandered back over to Caesar.

"That went surprisingly well." Isaac announced brightly. Caesar made a face that was most akin to 'not bad', an expression he used often, and nodded, glancing at the bodies.

"Come on," he said, " Let's go get this guy." This time Isaac nodded, allowing Caesar to take the lead once more.

Caesar leaned out of the door into the hall ever so slightly, checking for more guards. He signaled to Isaac that the hall was clear and slipped out, slinking down towards the end of the hall with his teammate following suit.

"How we doin' Simon?" Isaac whispered to his earpiece. He kept watch at his and Caesar's backs while Caesar checked around corners.

"Can't tell." Came Simon's reply, "I'm on cool down."

Isaac grunted an affirmation. "Cool down" was a term they used for the amount of time they had to wait between uses of their Eagle Vision. He tapped Caesar on the back. "Hold up, man." A rush of blue washed over Isaac's vision as he activated his own Eagle Vision, swiveling his head around until his eyes met with a yellow, man shaped form one floor above them at the other end of the hall. The yellow figure was accompanied by six red ones, that looked to be occupying the same room. Isaac noticed a few more guards in the halls above but didn't take accurate note of their position or number, he didn't want to use Eagle Vision longer than he needed to, he'd need it to see through Simon's smoke.

Isaac let his vision shift back to normal, and relayed what he'd seen to Caesar, who acknowledged him with a small, contemplative nod. The assassins moved upward, mounted the top step, and hung back about a foot and a half from the corner, out of the men in the hall's line of sight. They clung to the wall, as Isaac loudly rapped his knuckles against it once. They heard a confused mumble from down the hall, and the soft squishing of dress shoes on carpet start, and then begin to grow slightly louder. Another smg wielding man in a suit rounded the corner lazily, his confused expression flashing to fear and surprise as Isaac's wrist blade made its way into his neck. Isaac grabbed the man's shirt collar and flung him down the stairs, making sure the thumps were audible.

The noise invoked the subsequent thumping of another guard making his way down the hall with a bit more urgency than his predecessor.

"Greg? You okay buddy?" he called. Isaac feigned a desperate groan, hoping it would throw the man more off guard. The footsteps grew closer, and Caesar darted up the last step just as the sentry broke around the wall, assassinating him and laying him down quietly. Isaac couldn't help but chuckle just a little. It always felt good to pull a deceptive stunt like that with Caesar around, just to prove that he wasn't as clumsy or incautious as it seemed like Caesar thought he was at times. He waited patiently as his partner looted the man's wallet, and glanced around to make sure that they had taken care of all the men outside their target's office.

Once Caesar was finished, he and Isaac slowly skulked their way down the hall, waiting outside the intricate mahogany double doors that led to their objective. He uncovered his head and pressed his ear to the door. His hair was midlength, styled in a rough tousled sweep to the side from the front. Caesar heard muffled conversation from the other side, with one party, probably their target, Mr. Daughtry, sounding frantic.

"-and they're already in the building!" Daughtry screamed, his distress showing in his voice.

"We don't know that for sure, sir. They may not even be here. Maybe they moved the night." came another voice, presumably one of his bodyguards. Daughtry growled.

"We've already lost contact with at least five men outside and two inside. They're here. They're here, and you're going to kill them before they kill me! Do you understand me?" he snapped. The other man mumbled a 'Yes, sir.' and the room went quiet save for the sound of someone pacing, and the slide of a firearm being released.

Caesar pulled away from the door and donned his hood.

"Alright Simon" he whispered, "We're right outside his door and he's scared shitless. Do your thing."

"Copy." Simon replied.

Simon looked up from the small celtic knot he had been carving into the roof tile. The blade he was using was unique to him, a large long handled silver scalpel with a blade measuring about six inches in length. On the butt of the handle was another blade, this one straight and serrated. Simon was tall, standing at six feet, two inches, but very thin as well. He wasn't exactly scrawny, but it was a common mistake for people to assume he that was weak from his build. He wore a somewhat more complex outfit than his friends, but he thought it suited his style of approach beautifully. He sported a black sleeveless double breasted trench coat made of lightweight leather, with the front altered so that the hanging material was not in the way of the forward motion of his legs. His black jeans were fitting, but not tight, and clung snugly to the tops of the grey hiking boots he wore. A long sleeved shirt replaced the sleeves of the trench. It was thin, patterned with green and black stripes. Simon's bracers were fastened to his arms on top of his sleeves, and both sported wrist blades. The left bracer had noticeably more attached to it, most not discernible, but upon closer inspection it was apparent that the blade was missing from it as well.

Simon's gloves were a bit of an oddity as well. They were black leather, with the thumb and pinky fingers cut off. He wore a black leather version of a surgeon's mask, the sides ventilated and filtered to breathe in hostile environments. Just above his mask sat a thin nose that someone had once described as 'perfect', along with a pair of pale blue eyes. On top of these things, Simon wore a thin dark green half-cloak that draped over both shoulders and hung about halfway down his back, and closed with a small broach in the shape of a pointed stylized "A". He wore a black backpack over the cloak, with the straps fed through it so that they wouldn't hold the cloak down on his shoulders, only his back. His backpack had a built in sheath for his bow, and a quiver of arrows. The sheath to his scalpel was strapped to his right leg, designed to allow him to draw it by its handle when open but still shield the second blade when closed.

For this mission Simon had brought his longbow. Made of sturdy yew and built from Old English schematics, it offered high power and range, with a draw weight of one hundred-eighty pounds. Small foam pads were adhered to the undersides of the limbs of the bow, just under the string notches, so that the string would not smack audibly against the wood. Two bundles of what looked like frayed black yarn sat on the string on either side of the nocking point, spaced evenly between the nocking point and the string notches. The bow was painted in mottled green and black, to optimize concealment in dark environments.

Simon sheathed his scalpel and pulled a line of nylon rope from his backpack and drew a heavy metal arrow with a large barbed head from his quiver. He tied the line to the arrow and set it on the roof, carefully not to let it roll. Next he produced a small cartridge from his backpack, drawing another, this time normal arrow, and unscrewing the broad head tip to replace it with the cartridge. Simon tied the free end of the line around his waist and picked up both arrows and his bow. He stood, took a few paces backward, and took off at full sprint toward the edge of the roof and reading his arrows at the string between his first three fingers, heavy on top and light at the bottom. He nocked the heavy arrow and began to draw a few steps from the edge.

Simon leaped as hard as he could to his left, twisting his torso behind him and extending his bow arm while pulling back on the string, maximizing the draw and firing as soon as his fingers touched his face. The arrow sunk into the brick of the mansion, above the office window by six feet and to its left by two. Simon fired off the second arrow as soon as the first was free, not drawing completely this time due to time constraint and the fact that his arrow would break through the window at a half draw, which it did.

By the time the second arrow had flown, the line attaching Simon to the mansion had become taught, and he swung across the window, landing flat footed on the wall a few feet beside it. Half a second later the sound of the release mechanism in his arrow caught his ear, and the office flooded with thick white smoke.

"Now!" he exclaimed into the microphone mounted in his mask.

Isaac and Caesar took a step back and simultaneously kicked in the double doors of the now smoke filled room. Isaac immediately activated his eagle vision to see through the smoke, diving off to the left into a combat roll to avoid the panicked spray of bullets from one or two of the bodyguards. He saw Caesar narrowly avoid the hail of rounds as well, lunging to the right and pinning himself in a crouch against a bookshelf on the wall. Isaac recovered from his roll and pulled out his axe, scanning the room. He spotted a man-shaped figure glowing gold as it cowered in the corner, Daughtry of course. As his axe came in contact with his hand, the blue figure of Simon swung in from his hiding place outside the window, breaking the remaining glass and kicking one of Daughtry's men clear across the large i'm-an-important-businessman desk that sat in front of the window. The men's attention turned to Simon, and Isaac took the opportunity to cleave into the neck of the closest one. The man's agonized scream shifted split the attention between the two Assassins, who ducked out of the way of more aimless fire.

Caesar rolled over to the man that Simon had kicked and shanked him with his wrist blade, then drew and assembled his spear. He took cover in front of the desk and peaked over, squinting through the smoke to find a target. He picked out a head that wasn't hooded and popped up from his cover halfway to send the blade of his spear just under it. He felt it force its way into flesh, and pierce what he assumed was a rib cage. That's what he had been hoping to hit anyway. Caesar wrenched his spear back and out of the man, who fell onto the desk from the force of the action. His head slammed into the wood and he collapsed to the floor as Simon's scalpel found its way into the eye of the man unfortunate enough to be closest in proximity. He ducked back into cover and heard the air above him rip as Isaac's axe sailed across the room. Caesar heard the familiar sound of the axe slamming into a man's torso, followed by the corpse crashing into a what sounded like a lamp or maybe an expensive vase.

Suddenly a man in a grey suit tore past him, the smoke rushing out of place behind him as he bolted out the door, followed by Simon screaming "Daughtry!" Caesar dropped his spear and took off after the fleeing objective, determined not to let him escape. Daughtry's frantic flight was (sort of) aided by the various small tables and other objects around the halls of his home as he knocked them down in passing. Caesar lept over the obstacles without slowing, drawing close as Daughtry rounded the corner and rushed down the stairs. Daughtry was almost at the bottom when Caesar broke the corner. He glanced back and stared in horror at the sight of the blue-clad Assassin soaring through the air toward him, his hand outstretched and wrist blade extended. Caesar landed on him, toppling him to the ground as his blade slipped into Daughtry's neck up into his head.

Caesar's vision blurred, and his ears rang with an excruciating pitch. He cried out as images flooded across his mind, out of focus and bombarding his senses. His body felt strange, his tongue tingled, his nose burned. Every sense was being overloaded at the same time. He saw a bookshelf that wasn't in front of him, and a particular book slammed itself into his mind, but he couldn't see it clearly. The image snapped to an ornate dagger, flickering in and out of focus like a bad video feed. The next image he recognized, a huge, red cross decorating a banner in some large room he couldn't quite see. He saw Daughtry, shaking hands with someone. Then Daughtry was at a desk in a room lined with books, surrounded by men with guns, screaming into a phone about "Moving it". Brief flashes of golden objects he couldn't discern flashed across Caesars sight, rushing at him with immeasurable speed. Then it all stopped.

Caesar was on his back, panting. He didn't remember laying, or falling, down. He blinked rapidly to clear up his now tearing up eyes. He lay there for a few moments, trying to process what had just happened while the feeling he didn't realize he lost came back to his body. He looked to his right and saw Daughtry's surprised expression frozen on his face, inches away. His hood fell back as he sat up, and he brushed his hand through his hair.

"What the fuck…" he muttered. When he stood he was greeted by the immediate pounding of his head. He winced heavily, grabbing his forehead and stumbling back up the steps to regroup. He thought it was odd that his teammates hadn't shown up yet, he must have been laying there for minutes.

As if on cue, Simon and Isaac came dashing around the corner. Simon stopped at the landing but Isaac went down a few steps before he noticed the corpse and stopped.

"Sweet!" Isaac proclaimed, "Nice job man!" Caesar inhaled through his teeth, wincing again at the sudden loud noise.

"The hell have you guys been?" He grunted back, thumping his way up the stairs to them. Isaac frowned, cocking an eyebrow. He glanced at Simon and back to Caesar.

"What do you mean dude, we were literally right behind you." he said, a hint of concern and confusion in his voice. Simon slipped his scalpel into its sheath and held out his hands as Caesar made the top step. Caesar, stopped in front of him, lifting his hand away from his forehead. Simon pushed his friend's hair away, examining his head.

"We ran after you as soon as we finished the last guy," Simon said. "We were behind by like thirty seconds tops. What happened?" He moved Caesar's hair around more, finding no wounds. He snapped next to the Assassin's ear, provoking a small wince. Caesar relayed what had happened to Simon and Isaac, while Simon moved his fingers around in Caesar's face, watching his eyes. Isaac looked confused, but Simon seemed a to comprehend the situation a bit more. "You might have a small concussion, you probably hit your head off the ground when you had your vision." He produced a small bottle from his backpack, and handed Caesar two pills from it. Caesar swallowed them. Simon went on to explain that what Caesar had experienced was a form of Eagle Vision that let the user see into the memories of the targets they kill. Caesar started back to the office.

"I don't even _have_ Eagle Vision, how the hell can I use _one_ specific power from it?" He ranted. Simon shook his head.

"No idea man, but obviously you have it. Just for some reason you can't use the actual 'vision' part of it." Caesar rolled his eyes.

"No, yeah, of course. That makes sense. Why have the whole power when I can just do one thing? I'll just have psychic fucking migraines while you two and everyone else see through walls. That sounds fair." He spouted forcefully, the sarcasm in his voice almost tangible. Isaac frowned, walking slightly behind the other two.

"Well it's a power none of us have." He said, trying to lighten Caesar's mood a little.

"Yeah Isaac, because everyone wants to be a vegetable while their head turns into a picture book." He snapped. Isaac sighed.

"I was just saying." he mumbled. Once they reentered the office Isaac retrieved his axe, checking out the window for any guards that may have heard the fighting. He wasn't sure how many there were on the property but he certainly wasn't in the mood to find out. Caesar kept his hand on his head and leaned up against a bookshelf.

"We should see if he has any important files on his computer." Caesar commented as he rubbed his temples. Simon almost bounded over to Daughtry's desk.

"On it." Simon started working on breaking the password, with Isaac leaning over his shoulder and providing suggestions.

"Try Veronica." Isaac said. Simon looked at him quizzically. Isaac tried to look justified. "His daughter's name." he explained. Simon tried it, to no avail. Isaac kept making suggestions until Simon shooed him away telling him to go 'do something else'. Isaac kicked around the middle of the room for a little bit. He noticed Caesar's spear still on the ground, so he picked it up, separated it, and brought it back over to Caesar. "Here man." He said quietly, both in respect of Caesar's head pain and not wanting to aggravate him.

Caesar looked up from his hand and took the parts, thanking Isaac, when something caught his attention. The bookshelf across from him looked...familiar. He furrowed his brow, approaching it slowly. It was the exact same shelf from his vision. He scanned the spines of the books, looking for the particular one he saw.

"What are you doing?" Isaac asked, following him to the shelf.

"There's a book here."

"There's a few books here." Simon chimed in, not looking up from the screen. Caesar rolled his eyes.

"I mean one I saw in that vision. This is the same shelf." He elaborated. Isaac scanned the shelf as well, pulling one of the tomes down after a few seconds.

"This one?" He asked, offering it to his teammate. Caesar looked surprised.

"Yeah, how did you…?"

"Eagle Vision." Isaac said bluntly, not thinking. Caesar made a face, snatching the book from him.

"Of course. Thanks."

Isaac sighed again. He couldn't even blame him for being frustrated. Eagle Vision was a powerful tool that every skilled Assassin in history had been gifted with or attained. Of course he was upset. Caesar thumbed through the pages of the book and frowned.

"This is Roman history. Why would I have a vision of a Roman history book?" he asked, his tone indecipherable between confused and agitated.

"Yeah," Simon snarked, "Considering you know everything about it already." Caesar made a rather unamused face, accompanied by a far from genuine chuckle. He noticed one of the pages was dog eared.

"Hold on…" he muttered. ' _Juno'_ the page read. It was a chapter on the Roman goddess. It didn't seem very special, but he told Simon to try it anyway. Soon after Simon let out a high pitch 'Yes!' and proclaimed that he was in. He plugged in a flash drive and copied every file he could find, intending to have someone look through them all later to determine what was important. A symbol on the desktop caught his eye. It was a red cross, the symbol of the Knights Templar. He clicked it.

Suddenly the bookshelf that Isaac had pulled the book from sunk back into the wall and slid to the side, revealing behind it a set of elevator doors with a single button set into into the metal next to it. The trio looked at each other in surprise. Simon grinned, Isaac flipped down his hood to run his hand through his hair, which was a medium length, styled with a side part and swept to the left. "You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me. This is a…"

"Templar Compound." Simon interjected excitedly, jumping up from the desk chair. He ripped the flash drive out of the computer and tossed it in his backpack. "You guys thinking what I'm thinking?" His smile stretched ear to ear.

"No," Caesar said firmly, "Cus' it's a goddamn compound. Who _knows_ how many Templars are down there?"

"Oh, come on!" Simon groaned.

"I'm not coming on! It's fuckin' dumb! It's one thing to hit a mansion, but a whole facility? Did you not hear about the team that tried to rush Abstergo?" Caesar chastised, gesturing around with a finger. Simon slouched violently, letting out a pained grunt.

"That's _Abstergo!_ " he yelled. "This is one lone compound! If we don't go in now and get what we can, nothing will be here when they come to clear it out later! It makes the most logical sense to get the intel now before we lose it! Isaac, what do you think?" The two of them snapped their attention to Isaac, who stepped back a little in the suddenness of being put on the spot.

"I-I mean...We're already here…" he stammered tentatively. Caesar threw his hands in the air and walked away. "It just makes sense. Hell, they could have cleared out already and we'd be fine y'know?"

"Exactly." Simon supported. Caesar rubbed his face hard.

"I fucking hate you two sometimes." he threw his hands out again, in a more dismissive gesture. "Fine. Whatever, we'll fuckin' go in. But I'm telling you it's a bad idea." Simon rolled his eyes.

"We'll be _fine_. What can't the three of us handle?" he crooned as he punched the button for the elevator.

" _Please_ don't say that. _That's_ how you're gonna fuck us over. You say that, and then bad shit happens." The elevator dinged, and Caesar got on, followed by Isaac.

"Oh, don't be such a baby." Simon retorted as he boarded. The door closed, and the glass box started its decent.

Lights rushed by at timed intervals, brightening the bluish-grey metal frame to an almost disorienting degree each time. The men sat in silence, awaiting the end. The wall in front of the door suddenly stopped, giving way to a huge room made of the same bluish-grey metal and filled with modern looking desks that sat unattended. The entire room was empty, save for the towering presence of a huge white banner adorning the far wall, spanning nearly ceiling to floor. On the banner was a gigantic red cross.

"Oh no." Caesar mumbled to himself, sounding more put off than worried. Isaac re-donned his hood before they reached the bottom. As the elevator slid to a stop, the Assassins dropped into different positions, readying themselves to creep into the nearest hiding place. The doors opened and they stepped out. They were immediately greeted by a blaring buzzer, and the lights in the space shifting to red.

"FUCK!" Caesar screamed. Isaac instantly turned and bolted back toward the elevator only to slam into the blast door that had just clamped itself shut over the possible escape route. He growled in frustration as he hit the floor. Simon was looking around frantically, trying to find a way out.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, DAMMIT!" Every door was sealed by a huge plate of metal. The rush of dozens of booted feet washed in under the siren as men and women in white tactical body armor filed in, assault rifles trained on the Assassins. Caesar screamed unintelligibly at Simon, whose hands went up in the air in submission. Caesar's did the same, as did Isaac's, once he picked himself up off the ground. A woman's voice bled in through the noise.

"Somebody shut that damn thing up!"

The alarm silenced almost immediately, and the lighting shifted back to normal. The young woman from the painting in the foyer stood before them, wearing a sleek white dress and grey pumps, her hair pulled back into professional looking bun. She wore an odd looking circular pendant of something that looked like both stone and metal, inscribed with strange markings. She smiled warmly. Isaac frowned.

"Veronica." he almost growled. Veronica chuckled softly.

"Isaac, I've missed you." She chirped. Isaac scoffed in reply. "So good of you boys to make it to your party, I was starting to think you'd stood me up." Veronica pointed at the three lazily. Guards surrounded them, yanking their hands behind their backs and slapping restraints around each of their wrists. "I assume that since you found your way down here that my father is dead." She shrugged disinterestedly, staring off to the side of the room. "Just as well. He was worthless as an executive, his paranoia made it difficult to get him to actually _do_ anything. You've done me a favor really. Now _I'm_ in charge." The warmth in her smile went cold as she gave them a villainous stare. "Strip their gear and lock them in the detention cells. I want to see what we can get out of them before we send their heads back to their masters."


End file.
